


Bartender, Oh Bartender, Take Me Home

by wiccanstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Bartender!Benny, Bartenders, Clubbing, Food Porn, Impala Sex, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Porn, Relationship Problems, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Roadhouse, Tumblr, What Was I Thinking?, bartender!Dean, manwhore dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiccanstiel/pseuds/wiccanstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"His name is Dean Winchester, he bartends at The Roadhouse, has spiky blonde hair, and a tattoo of a wolf on his left shoulder (among others). He has an Impala named Baby and a baby brother named Sam. He likes frisky men and women, long walks on the beach, and makes a mean Mojito. He's pleased to meet you."</p><p>Dean Winchester and his coworker Benny have a ongoing contest to see who can have the most one-night stands before summer break ends. And naturally, Dean's winning. But that all changes when a man with blue eyes requests a drink, and Dean just <em>has</em> to show off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bartender, Oh Bartender, Take Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> Do you people have any idea how many fic's I've written off posts on tumblr? Way too freaking many.  
> Here's another one. I'm actually rather proud of it.  
>  _Based off this post:_ http://i-believe-in-dean.tumblr.com/post/47804198374/i-need-a-fanfic-ith-this  
>  excuse my smut I'm still a little new in that area  
> No idea where the title came from. Enjoy!

Dean walked into work five minutes early, determined to get _his_ half of the bar at least somewhat organized. His coworker, Benny, was an amazing bartender, but boy, was the guy a slob. The DJ was already on stage doing a soundcheck, and the bass pumped through the entire building. Dean could feel it in his chest and smiled. He loved his job. 

His name is Dean Winchester, he bartends at The Roadhouse, has spiky blonde hair, and a tattoo of a wolf on his left shoulder (among others). He has an Impala named Baby and a baby brother named Sam. He likes frisky men and women, long walks on the beach, and makes a mean Mojito. He's pleased to meet you.

Benny swung in not a moment after Dean had re-organized his side of the bar. 

"Brother, we open in ten minutes, so if you're over there gelling up your hair agan, you best hurry it up." He teased.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't understand a single fucking word you're trying to say." Dean teased back, a light smile on his face. Benny just grunted and elbowed his coworker. He pulled out glasses and bottles, preparing some of their most popular drinks for the rush that would undoubtably happen as soon as the doors open. The Roadhouse was one of the most popular clubs in town, and had a reputation for filling up fast. Everyone tried to get there early, so a line could start as early as twenty minutes before opening. 

As predicted, a line at the bar started about thirty seconds after the doors opened. Dean was in the zone, asking people for drink orders with a smile and fixing them in record time. 

Slowly but surely, the crowd thinned out and the dance floor filled up. The DJ was some famous guy from out of town or something, and Dean had to admit, he was pretty freaking good. 

"Care to make a girl a drink?" A voice asked from his left. He turned and saw a pretty redhead looking up at her, a flirty smile on her lips. He smiled back, flicking his eyes up and down.

"What would you like?" He asked. 

She shrugged. "It's actually my first time here. What do you recommend?" She leaned against the counter, presenting her chest to him. He raised an eyebrow. 

"Make her a Lemon Drop." A smooth southern accent interrupted. Benny walked up to Dean's side, wiping his hands with a rag and looking the girl up and down. Dean elbowed him. 

"Yes, thank you. Don't you have customers?" Dean mocked, but he grabbed a glass and began mixing the drink. He placed the finished product in front of her, and she sipped it. She raised her eyebrows. 

"This is really good." 

Dean smirked and leaned forward on his elbows. "Yeah, it is. I did make it, after all." 

She leaned forward, too. "I'm Anna." Her breath was sweet. 

"I'm Dean." 

She took another sip, looking him up and down. "You know, I'm free tonight. Maybe when you get off shift ... " She trailed off, reaching up and trailing her fingertips over Dean's muscled arms. 

Internally, Dean was patting himself on the back for scoring yet another point. Him and Benny were having a contest, to see who could pick up the most people by the end of summer break. So far, Dean was winning.

He straightened up. "I get off at one." 

She grabbed a napkin and put her phone number on it. She slid it towards him. "Call me then." She winked and left. 

_____________

"Oh my god Sammy, she could do this thing with her tongue and-"

"Oh my god Dean, shut up. I get it, you had another awesome one night stand, a lot like the one before that, and the one before that, and the one before that. I just _really_ don't want to hear about it. When are you actually gonna find someone you can bring home? Me and Jess are happy, and I know you could too if you just-"

"Sam I swear to god if you tell me I'd be happier if I settled down with someone I will personally shove my foot up your ass 'cause I'm perfectly happy the way I am right now, thank you very much." Dean pushed open the back door to The Roadhouse, his phone cradled between his shoulder and ear. He added another checkmark under his name on a sheet of paper labeled "Summer Break Stand Off". He looked at it and smirked. He had seven more than Benny. 

"I'm just worried about you, Dean. You're twenty-eight. Your longest relationship lasted two weeks." He didn't mention Lisa. Neither of them did. 

"Dude, just quit it with the chick flick moments, okay? I'm a dude, and I'll do what I do, 'cause I like what I do. And besides, I'm pretty sure I've been with Baby for longer than two weeks." He walked out of the back room and up to the bar, nodding to Benny. 

"Your car doesn't count, Dean." 

"Sure it does. You're talking about relationships, right?" Dean put the phone on speaker and then placed it on the counter so he could tie up his apron. They could hear Sam sigh.

"You are the weirdest person I know. And that's counting Garth." 

"You still love me though." Dean smirked. "Look, I'm at work, but I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" 

"Sure. Bye." He hung up. Dean picked his phone up and shoved it in his pocket, then began wiping down the counter. 

"You talking about that damn car again?" Benny asked.

"What can I say? She's a work of art." Dean responded.  
_____________

Dean had taken an extra shift, so when 1am rolled around, he was still at the bar. It was a Monday night, and the crowds weren't that large. Dean was wiping up a spilt drink when a guy slid up to the counter. 

"Can I get you anything, pal?" he asked automatically.

"I - I'm not sure." A deep, gravely voice answered.

Dean looked up. The guy was wearing a white button up shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hair was dark brown and messy, and he had a five o'clock shadow. He had really full lips, like, damn-i-really-want-to-kiss-you lips, but the thing about him that really intrigued Dean was the guy's eyes. They were the bluest blue he had ever seen. Like, strobe light blue. Dean cleared his throat. 

"Uh, sorry, didn't catch that." He felt like he was blushing. When did Dean Winchester blush?

"I - I said I wasn't sure if I wanted an alcoholic beverage or not." The guy replied.

"So ... do you want a soda, or something?" The guy talked weird.

"No." The man seemed sure about that. 

"Well ... how 'bout I fix you something, and you tell me if you like it or not?" Dean asked. The guy looked sweaty, and a nice cold drink could do him some good. Dean wasn't trying to impress him at all. Nope.

Blue-Eyes nodded his head, and Dean grinned. 

He pulled up a glass and a bottle of syrup at the same time, pouring the syrup into the bottom of the glass as he lifted it. As soon as he put the bottle down, he grabbed some mint and ground it up in a small bowl, and then transfered the mint into the glass. In quick, fluid movements, he pulled a bottle of Bacardi and Pellegrino off the shelf and began pouring both into the glass with one hand, showing off by lifting the glass into the air with the same hand that was pouring both liquids. Strobe lights went off in the background, making the liquids flash bright green and blue. 

He put it down again and grabbed a lime from the counter, chopping it in half and holding it over the glass, squeezing it with one hand. When he was satisfied with the amount of juice in there, he took the other half and chopped off a slice, sticking it into the glass that was almost full. Dean grabbed a handfull of crushed ice in one hand and a sprig of mint in the other, and threw them in on top. He slid the drink towards the guy, who was staring at him with wide eyes. 

Benny gave Dean a low whistle. "That was beautiful." He said in awe.

Truth be told, Dean was showing off the entire time, using skills he had perfected at home to impress Blue-Eyes, who was looking at the drink like it was a stack of hundred dollar bills. Dean looked around and saw some of the other patrons looking at him with various levels of amazement, and he began feeling self conscious.

He rested himself on his elbows in front of Blue-Eyes. "Go on, try it." 

The man took a sip and his eyes grew impossibly wider. "It's amazing." 

Dean grinned like it was a personal victory. Which, in his book, it was. "Say, what was your name again?" 

The guy looked up from his drink. "It's Castiel. Castiel Novak."

"I'm Dean Winchester." He gave Castiel a flirty smile. 

Castiel looked over him with interested eyes, his gaze lingering over Dean's arms and chest. He suddenly leaned in close to Dean's ear, his pepperminty breath ghosting over the skin there and making Dean shiver. 

"What would you do," He whispered, "if I just pushed you down on this counter and fucked you until you screamed?" 

Dean's dick was very interested in this proposal, but Dean's brain was having a hard time keeping up with the sudden swing in the conversation. It took him a second to regain his train of thoughts. 

"I'd probably give you my number. I'm always up for a second round." He replied, doing an internal victory dance on not fucking up. 

Castiel pulled back and slid his napkin towards Dean. Dean took it and wrote his number down, sliding it back with a smirk. Castiel took it and tucked it into his back pocket, and then turned and leaned against the bar, facing the dance floor. His shirt was slightly transparent though, and Dean stopped in his tracks. 

The fucker had a pair of wings tattoo'd onto his back. And not just tiny wings either, but full detailed, back - to waist type wings. Dean swore, feeling his dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans. He tried inconspicuously pushing it down with the heel of his hand, but when that didn't work, he tried imagining his uncle naked. It worked, but Dean was pretty sure he was scarred for life. Damn Castiel Novak and his damn back tattoos. 

Dean got off shift at three, and when he walked outside he saw Castiel standing against the wall of The Roadhouse, smoking. Dean approached him, and leaned against the wall next to him. Castiel wordlessly held out the pack for him, and he took one and lit it. They stood there in comfortable silence, smoking their cigarettes. 

"So," Dean asked, throwing the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stepping on it, "What're you doing out here?" 

"My brother left without me, and I needed a ride home." He answered, looking down. 

"Ah." Dean nodded. The guy was still practically a stranger, but he was a very hot stranger. "I'll give you a lift." 

"Really?" Castiel looked up. 

"Sure, Cas. I'm not a total douchebag." Dean replied. Cas looked at him quizzically. 

"What?" He asked. 

"You called me Cas." Castiel replied. 

Dean hadn't even realized. "Oh. I'm sorry." 

Cas shook his head. "No, it's fine. I like it." 

"Oh. Okay then." Dean teetered on his feet awkwardly. He jerked his head in the direction of his car, and starte walking, looking back to make sure Cas was following.

They got to the 1967 Chevy Impala and Cas cocked an eyebrow. Dean leaned against the side of his car and petted it lovingly, looking at Castiel, who was staring at him predatorily. Suddenly, blue eyes were in his face and warm lips were on his, and Cas was gripping him tight and slipping his tongue into Dean's mouth. It tasted of alcohol and nicotine and something unique, and suddenly Dean's hands were on Cas' hips and Cas's leg was in between Dean's and clothes needed to come off, _now_.

Dean fumbled with the back door and then they were tumbling in, and Cas was pulling the door closed while Dean positioned himself comfortably, pulling his shirt off. Castiel crawled up to him and fit himself in by slotting his body between Dean's legs, and started to grind down mercilessly while sucking at Dean's collarbone. 

The bartender moaned and arched his back, thrusting back up to meet Cas'. They worked themselves into a rhythm, and Dean began grabbing at Castiel's shirt, pulling at the buttons until the man undid the button down and threw it to the side. Castiel began sucking and nipping downwards until he got to one of Dean' nipples, and took it into his mouth. Dean could feel Cas' erection through two layers of denim, and he moaned at the tongue that was doing things to him. He buried his hands into Castiel's hair and tugged on it, and Cas moaned. They continued like this, even managing to get Castiel's pants off in the small space. 

Dean pulled down his boxers and wrapped a hand around Cas' erection, earning him a moan. Castiel unbuttoned Dean's pants and pulled his dick out, and together they started jerking each other off. Their kissing was getting too sloppy, so Castiel just rested his head on Dean's forehead. Cas started doing this thing with his hand, and suddenly Dean was gasping, his entire body shuddering as orgasm hit him like a freight train. Castiel followed soon after, and they lied there for a few minutes, waiting for their breathing to return back to normal. Dean reached down and grabbed his shirt, pushing Cas over so he could wipe up the worst of it. 

They silently got re-dressed, and Dean realized he didn't have a clean shirt. He shrugged and climbed into the drivers seat, the last of the post-orgasmic high fading. Cas climbed into the passenger seat not long after, and they drove Cas home.  
_______________

And so what if he called Cas the next night? He had found out that the dude was a writer, so Dean could head over whenever he wanted.  
_______________

It was three weeks later when Dean realized that Benny was winning by five points. It hadn't occurred to him to write down the second, or the third, or the four or fifth or sixth or whatever-they-were-up-to-now time he had hooked up with Cas, and he was bothered with the fact that he wasn't bothered about the fact that Benny was ahead. 

The truth was, sex with Cas was amazing. Dean kept going back for more, to the point where he wasn't interested in another stranger's hands. It was new for him, and it scared him, so he buried it down deep. Things were better that way. 

That night, a pair of blue eyes showed up at the bar and asked for a Dean Winchester Special. Dean smiled when he saw who it was, and complied. He did show off, of course, as he always did. 

"So. My siblings are going to be in town next week." Cas started.

"Oh yeah?" Dean replied, pouring out four shots for the ladies upstairs. 

"I thought it would be nice if you came with me to meet them." 

Dean looked up as he slid the tray to the girl waiting. 

"Me? Why?" 

"Well ... It's just- we are dating, are we not?" 

"Dating?" Dean's brain stopped and backed up. _Dating?_ Since when? 

He didn't notice Benny watching him from the corner of his eye. 

"I .. well, uh - " A loud cheer went up from the crowd.

"Look, can we talk about this outside after I get off work? I can't hear you in here." Dean shouted. It was only the half truth, he could hear Cas perfectly fine, but he really, _really_ didn't want to talk about _dating_ in front of his coworker. His head was spinning. Weren't they just friends with benefits? Sure, sometimes Dean let Cas wear his clothes when he stayed the night, and okay, maybe he did wake up to find Castiel wrapped around him, but did that mean they were dating? Dean was so pathetic he didn't know. 

That night, Dean stepped out to see Cas leaning against the building, smoking. Much like the night they had first met, Castiel held out his pack to Dean, who took one and lit it. 

"So, dating, huh?" He began, suddenly nervous. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize ... I just- if you want to break this off now, you can." Castiel replied staring at the ground. 

"No, It's just -" Dean sighed in frustration. "You're special to me, okay? And that's never happened before. The longest relationship I've been in lasted two weeks. I don't know how to date someone." 

"Dean, I don't know if you've noticed, but what we were doing earlier - that's what dating's like. That's what _being in a relationship_ is like. You were doing fine. What I don't understand is why it's such a big deal to you."

"I don't date, okay? I don't." 

Castiel looked hurt, and Dean felt horrible. 

"Look, I - okay. I don't date. But ... I'd be willing to try .. something. I'd try something with you. And ... I guess if that leads to dating, then that's what we'll do. Alright?" He grabbed Castiel's hand and lifted it up. 

"This, this is important to me. Being with you. I won't sacrifice that because I don't know how to date someone. Okay? Hey, okay?" He caught Cas' eye.

"Yeah, okay. I'll be in something with you." He sighed. "But can you still come with me to meet my siblings? They're hard to deal with on my own." 

Dean nodded, and lowered their hands, still holding on. He liked the feeling. "Yeah. Yeah, okay." He was gonna be okay.


End file.
